"ROB —

Remembrance

N THE thirty-first day of August we

fished sleelhead on a nameless

Zymoetz run below Kelly Creek.

Hardened broken salmon, framed by

the tracks of bears and birds, lay on the beaches,
out of water, out of time, An eagle slid through
the air above us as we reached the tailout. The sky
shone through gaps where feathers were missing
from his. right wing. We returned to the old
helicopter pad, Webb built some sandwiches. [
thought of Myron, perhaps because the run I'd
just left was the only one we'd fished together
:late in, the afternoon of a dying year, with the cor-
| tidors ‘burning yellow and red and orange.

As I lifted the binoculars to scan the waterfall
spilling over a rock face of a nearby mountain, I
temembered how a steelhead exploded under
Myron’s skating fly, how he laughed when he dis-
covered the point of the hook was missing, and
how he scampered around thé rocks with his ever
present camera, capturing the oblique afternoon
light as it reflected off the sides of a fish ] caught
later in the day.

A spot of while intruded in the Jeft lens,
puncturing the recollection. I shifted that way,
There, standing on invisible toe holds, was a
mountain goat, a handsome billy, not yellowed
like he should be at summer’s end but bright
white. I was surprised he was there, so low, only a
few hundred feet from the valley floor, on a warm
day jong before the first snows. I called to Webb.
He joined me and we watched the animal move
about the sheer face with spider like agility. As
the goat approached the top of the draw he pushed
with powerful back legs kicking free the large

i chunk. of.shale that. had. supported him. moments. .

* before? “Before his ‘front’ fogs found "hold he

seemed suspended in air. ‘‘I wonder if they ever.

fall,’ I said as the echo of the clattering rocks
- subsided and the goat melted into the forest. “I
think they do...sometimes,’” said Webb.

When [ arrived home the red light on the ans-
‘wering machine was pulsating in the dark. I
" pushed the button and triggered Bruce Hill’s
voice, rough around the edges and suffused with
pain. “Call me, Rob. I’ve got really bad news.”’
He did. Myron had been killed. Killed in a crash

; while on a shoot for an environmental organiza-
tion in a plane with too little power, too full, and
too inflexible for the demands of dangerous ter-

fain. My heart was lead. My head ached. Over the

Phone neither of us could say more. I hung up,
‘ gathered myself together then made my way to
’ Bruce’s, We drank whisky and looked for an an-
chorage. ‘“Typical.’’ said Bruce. “Myron was
working for free — for the earth.’’ As Bruce un-

; derstood it, Myron was after some shots of Gener-

al Money’s Pool on the Stamp. The pilot few

’ over what he thought was the top of a mountain

and discovered it was a ridge with another higher

ridge behind it. Myron and the pilot were up

front; both were zone when the rescuers arrived,
Memories flooded my mind. Touring Dease

Lake a month earlier, looking up a hill and seeing:

Myron behind a video camera, shooting footage
to be used in the campaign to halt the hacking up

, of one of the last great wildernesses on earth.

’ Both of us were on the move; he had to fly in an
hour. It was good to sce him, smiling in that im-
’ pish way of his, brimming with energy. I recalled

' those regular phone calls with reports on the en-—

vironmental batiles, and the thick parcels of in-
formation that inevitably came in the mail after-
_ Ward. Myron was indefatigable, always up, it

" seemed, so enthusiastic, so active. His momentum |

swept you up; his optimism was infectious,

I knew his work and personality touched 2 lot of

people, but I didn’t realize how many until I
joined over 100 of them at Driftwood Hall where,
among many olher things, I learned there had

been a similar festival of friends at the funeral in

| Saskatoon, over a hundred people had gathered to
"pay their respects at a memorial in Vancouver,
and a similar gathering was planned for Quesnel.
As speaker after speaker stepped to the micro-
phone I was struck by the sense of community,
and how appropriate this place, where a wild sal-
mon river runs through a rolling. prairie set
‘against a backdrop of wild, rugged mountains,
was to celebrate Myron’s life in words, music and
pictures.
Myron chased and captured light in wild places
_ full of radiant facets, and he looked for it in

places where people turned the landscape inside.

_ out, He saw photography as way to stimulate and
ameliorate; be used his talent unselfishly, When
he squinted into the lens of his Nikon he saw a

--way to help us all.

Myron Kozak’s remains rest under prairie soil.
The monuments he worked so well to save are
here in the wild parts of the west — in the un-

‘ spoiled valley of the Kitope, in the pulse of the
Skeena salmon runs. There is comfort In knowing

‘his images will soldier on, but I still can’t help

“wishing death had been tripped up.— that there

had been a toe hold for Myron on {he last day of |

August 1995, |

Nt

~ guise. of

TERRACE STANDARD

The. Tertace’ Standard; Wednesday, September 20, 1995 - B7

MALCOLM BAXTER 638-7283

HAVING AN ambulance on
hand for a Demolition Derby
is never a bad idea, but enter-
ing one in the event?

That’s what Jules LaFrance
did this year and there was
little doubt from the outset the
“20. Footer’? was going to be’
a tough vehicle to dispose of.

While his opponents went to
work rearranging each other’s
bodywork, LaFrance sailed
sedately round the track,
daring anyone to touch a
monster which outnumbered
everyone else two to one in

-sheer bulk.

He did find one ambitious
challenger in the unlikely

. diminutive...

Chevette. However, it’s fre-
quent. broadsides _ barely
budged the one-time emer-
gency vehicle,

‘And the pesky Chevette was
ultimately to pay for its im-
pudence.

It-had ended up stranded on
the grass just before the first
turn, its. gears failing to
respond to the driver's frantic
efforts to get back in motion.
Which is where it was Sitting
when LaFrance came cruising
by. The opportunity was ob-
viously too good to miss,

The ambulance | stopped,
LaFrance looked over his, -

Shoulder and: gently: neversedsiiy,
~ toward: his=-haplesse victim; A ex

CONFUSED INDEED. Some drivers had problems stock car season wind-up. But then it's tough. ‘staying
keeping track of where the track was at this year’s on the blacktop when you have to drive backwai ‘a

Motorized mayhem

eh Footer

IN NO HURRY. Sedate was the only way to describe |

Jules LaFrance’s progress around the track as he. ana
cruised to victory in this year's Demolition Derby. “gaat

pushing . his. one-time
tormentor deeper. into _ the
swampy infield.

THEM! justas deliberately, the
20 Footer; jeased hachson to,,

FORWARD AND reverse races obviously didn’t offer enough variety for some.
The driver of this pick-up decided to try the sideways in demolition dash action.

wit WINDLESS weather
producing excellent shooting
conditions, competitors in this
year’s Terrace Pacific Interna-
tional trap shoot came up with
results to match, =

The tone was set right from
the start when Pat Bare of
Kitiniat and Burnaby’s Bill

Crosby produced perfect 100

bird tallies in the A and AA’
classes respectively ‘i in. . the
opening 16 yard event.

And Pat Ellis of Kamloops:

added the weekend's ©‘ third
faultless performance the fol-

lowing day in the A class of -

another 16 yarder.

That event also saw a spec-’

tacular battle for the B class

between Terrace’s s. “Bil ‘Vant’

Kruis and Chas. Collins of

Ketchikan.

- Ties at 99, the duo went: into
a shoot off. And another. And
another before Vant Kruis

finally prevailed.

- Chuck Lariviere provided. :
the home shooters with their ©

THEY CAME from far and wide to take part in this year’s Pacific Intemational 500
bird trap shoot, an avent which produced remarkable displays of marksmanship.

eee ee eet se

"fond: memories” ol

the track and continued on tits,
way tovictory, ©...
Having goaded. nee p
ponents with a message on th
trunk: sccthat,;asked, . nee ¢ ;
wouldn’t hit a. woman, would .
you?”’, Debbie Reinhardt'sur
vived the ensuing attentions :to
take the’ runner-ip. spot with:
Shane Meier surviving ‘tobe.
third, ~~ a
The final day of the’ Terrace
Stock car season was. ‘full: 0

_, And with events ia that, :i
was little'wonder that the tow.
"trucks put on more miles: ove

events, inching the final ne
ular races, See the, _Scor

only other victory when : he:

outgunned Ken Kemmerer of. -
Ketchikan in the. Short Yard :
age handicap event. .

Elia Bomben. came close to.
making it three in the opening:
event,- but fell’ one’ ‘short’ fC)
Nelson Roisum’s 98. tally." :

Apart from. Pat.
tory, Kitimat also scored a vic-
tory when Hank Dedish took:
the Class C in doubles while
Marie Dedish finished in the
runier-up spot in Class D for
the second 16-yard event, 9. oss.

Winning one. event . ard.
finishing in the runner-up spot
three times, Don Newman. of
Ketchikan captured: the: high’). °°
overall title while fellow Alas- °°:
kan Cindy Thomas look : the,
Ladles side, -... .: Spe!

About 70 shooters took. part
in this - ycar’s shoot, ° ‘coming:
from as far away-as the north-.°<
wesiem United States. And...

with $10,000, in prizes. up for:

grabs . in Sunday’ 8. handicap
event, it was worth the trip...
"- conipetito
definitély ..went. away with